Author/Uploaded by Karen McCombie
Title Page Contents Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven eCopyright BLOOMSBURY EDUCATION Bloomsbury Publishing Plc 50 Bedford Square, London, WC1B 3DP, UK 29 Ea...
Title Page Contents Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven eCopyright BLOOMSBURY EDUCATION Bloomsbury Publishing Plc 50 Bedford Square, London, WC1B 3DP, UK 29 Earlsfort Terrace, Dublin 2, Ireland BLOOMSBURY, BLOOMSBURY EDUCATION and the Diana logo are trademarks of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc This electronic edition published in 2023 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc First published in Great Britain in 2023 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc Text copyright © Karen McCombie, 2023 Illustrations copyright © Thy Bui, 2023 Karen McCombie and Thy Bui have asserted their rights under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as Author and Illustrator of this work Bloomsbury Publishing Plc does not have any control over, or responsibility for, any third-party websites referred to or in this book. All internet addresses given in this book were correct at the time of going to press. The author and publisher regret any inconvenience caused if addresses have changed or sites have ceased to exist, but can accept no responsibility for any such changes This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publishers A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library ISBN: PB: 978-1-8019-9180-3; ePDF: 978-1-8019-9179-7; ePub: 978-1-8019-9182-7 Text design by Laura Neate To find out more about our authors and books visit www.bloomsbury.com and sign up for our newsletters CONTENTS Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven CHAPTER ONE It’s been less than an hour since me, Dad and my pet rat Spike ditched our old house and caught the bus to our new flat. It’s in a big, squat block called Seaview Court, six storeys high and as wide as a football pitch. The whole building looks gloomy, I think as the three of us walk towards it, with Spike peeking out of his plastic carry-case. There’s a heavy haze of fog almost hiding the top floor. Our floor, where we’ll find our flat. I haven’t seen it yet. And Dad forgot to take photos when he viewed it a couple of weeks ago. “Look, JoJo – the removal team are here already!” Dad says brightly. He nods towards a parked van with ‘WE ♥ TO MOVE IT, MOVE IT!’ written on the side. It’s a pretty funny slogan and would’ve made me laugh – or sing it out loud – at any other time, but not today. Nothing seems too funny at the moment. “OK, now what’s the code to get in?” Dad mumbles as we reach the glass doors of the entrance. He’s frowning at the rows of silver buttons on a panel. “Let me check that email I got from–” Stepping in front of him, I drop my skateboard to the ground and quickly press three buttons: ‘6’, ‘A’ and then ‘Enter’. The door clicks open. “Ah, of course the code is just the number of our flat,” Dad laughs at himself. “Yep,” I reply, holding the door so Dad can go in first. Honestly, Dad is super-smart in lots of ways. He was the manager of a whole store before it shut down last year. But he can be super-dumb with obvious stuff, like most adults. “Right, let’s see how the guys are getting on,” says Dad. We see straightaway. There are two lifts, but one has an ‘out of order’ sign on it. The whole of the entrance area is clogged up with piled-up cardboard boxes and furniture. I spot two men wearing T-shirts with ‘WE ♥ TO MOVE IT, MOVE IT!’ on the front. They’ve just turned our battered old piano on its end, and seem to be trying to figure out how to manoeuvre it into the one working lift. By the looks of it, the piano will be even more battered than it already is once they finally get it into our flat. I told Dad not to take it with us. How many times have I said that I don’t want to play it anymore? Not with this annoying twitch I’ve got going on in my arm. But then I can’t just stand here and watch the piano get thunked about. It’s making twanging and plinking noises like it’s in distress… “I’m going to take the stairs,” I tell Dad, holding Spike’s carrier in my left hand and my skateboard in my right. “Huh? You sure, JoJo? It’s a long way up!” Dad calls after me, but I’m already through the door marked ‘STAIRS TO ALL FLOORS’. At first glance the stairwell looks boring and dull – blank breeze-block walls, blank cement steps, no windows and too-bright overhead lights. “Hello!” I call out, to test the echo. “Hello!” my voice comes back, sounding odd as it bounces back down at me, sounding higher, more like a girl’s. Me and Spike set off, and quickly climb up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. Floor 1, Floor 2, Floor 3, Floor 4… it’s all just the same grey blankness, only broken up by big red plastic numbers beside each doorway. But half-way up to Floor 5 I see something different. Something scrawled on the wall. THIS WAY!!!! I stop dead and stare at the bubble lettering and wonky arrow doodled in peach chalk. “This way to what?” I say out loud, grinning to myself and talking to no one. I hear a high-pitched sound like a giggle, but it was probably just Spike squeaking, protesting, feeling travel-sick in his carrier. Giving myself a shake,